allam, and, asking a homeward-bound labourer the way to Daniel
Knott's, learned that it was by the church, which showed its stumpy
ivy-clad spire on a slight elevation of ground; a useful addition to the
means of identifying that desirable homestead afforded by Daniel's
description--'the prittiest place iver you see'--though a small cow-yard
full of excellent manure, and leading right up to the door, without any
frivolous interruption from garden or railing, might perhaps have been
enough to make that description unmistakably specific.

Mr. Gilfil had no sooner reached the gate leading into the cow-yard, than
he was descried by a flaxen-haired lad of nine, prematurely invested with
the _toga virilis_, or smock-frock, who ran forward to let in the unusual
visitor. In a moment Dorcas was at the door, the roses on her cheeks
apparently all the redder for the three pair of cheeks which formed a
group round her, and for the very fat baby who stared in her arms, and
sucked a long crust with calm relish.

'Is it Mr. Gilfil, sir?' said Dorcas, curtsying low as he made his way
through the damp straw, after tying up his horse.

'Yes, Dorcas; I'm grown out of your knowledge. How is Miss Sarti?'

'Just for all the world the same, sir, as I suppose Dannel's told you;
for I reckon you've come from the Manor, though you're come uncommon
quick, to be sure.'

'Yes, he got to the Manor about one o'clock, and I set off as soon as I
could. She's not worse, is she?'

'No change, sir, for better or wuss. Will you please to walk in, sir? She
lies there takin' no notice o' nothin', no more nor a baby as is on'y a
week old, an' looks at me as blank as if she didn't know me. O what can
it be, Mr. Gilfil? How come she to leave the Manor? How's his honour an'
my lady?'

'In great trouble, Dorcas. Captain Wybrow, Sir Christopher's nephew, you
know, has died suddenly. Miss Sarti found him lying dead, and I think the
shock has affected her mind.'

'Eh, dear! that fine young gentlemen as was to be th' heir, as Dannel
told me about. I remember seein' him when he was a little un, a-visitin'
at the Manor. Well-a-day, what a grief to his honour and my lady. But
that poor Miss Tina--an' she found him a-lyin' dead? O dear, O dear!'

Dorcas had led the way into the best kitchen, as charming a room as best
kitchens used to be in farmhouses which had no parlours--the fire
reflected in a bright row of pewter plates and dishes; the sand-scoured
deal ta